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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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PI^INiflED BY IHE A U 11 H O % 
1887 



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Copyright, 1887, 

BY 

W. B. Gordon. 



PREFACE. 

UE rhymester thought to mayke a booke, 
* And searched hys crop of verse to fynde 
Yf hee, by any hooke or crooke, 

Coulde mayke y* thycke enough to bynde. 

Of modest mien and little pelfe, 

Hee feared to seeke y e prynter's aide, 

And so hee sett y e type hymselfe, 

And here's y e booke y e rhymester mayde. 

Some rhymes are gay and some are grave, 
And some but little to hys mynde ; 

But these y e rhymester had to save 

To mayke y* thycke enough to bynde. 



Ye rhymester hopes y e readers' heads 

Wyll not be in an awful rage 
Wyth heavy paper, triple leads, 

And very little on a page. 

Perhaps they'll thynke y* quyte enough, — 

A great abundance of y e kynde. 
Att least, by using all hys stuffe, 

Hee mayde y* thycke enough to bynde. 

W. B. G. 

West Point, N. Y., 

Ye 11 th Mon., 20 th Day, 1887. 



IV 



L'ENVOI. 

f^O forth, and hope thou not 
^ Fond hearts to sway, 
But may it be thy lot 

A humbler part to play. 
If, in some dreary hour, 

But one dear heart 
Be lightened by thy power, — 

Then thou hast played thy part. 



CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Preface iii 

L'envoi v 

Sonnet, Trailing Arbutus - - - i 

At the Ball 2 

A Fragment - - - - - - 4 

A Dream - 5 

Horace, Book III, Ode IX - - - 6 

For an Album 8 

Then and Now 9 

Two Rondeaux : My Vassar Girl - 10 

My own Cadet - - 11 

A Serenade 12 

A Valentine 13 

A Romance of the Slide - 14 

At the Hop 17 

vi 



Sonnet, The Statue of Liberty - 20 

Sonnet, A Portrait - - - - 21 

The Proposal 22 

Stanzas 24 

Sonnet ...... 2 6 

Sonnet 27 

Three Pictures 28 

A Fancy 30 

Sonnet, 32 

To B. M. B., (Rondel) .... 33 

For 34 

Under a Cloud 36 

Hymn 37 

Midnight, Dec. 31, 1875 38 

Song - - - - - - - 39 

The Arrow and the Song 40 

Aftermath (Second Marriages) - 41 

vii 



To 42 

A Cousin - 44 

One hundred Days to June - - 46 

Osculation 49 

A Song of Spring 54 

O Faded Rose (Rondeau) - 66 

Ye Critic Wise (Rondeau) - - - 67 

A Valentine 68 

Sonnet - - - - - -7° 

Sonnet - 71 

The Class of '75, U. S. M. A. - - 72 

Say Nothing 76 

After the Hop (Two Triolets) - - 78 

To My Cigarette (Rondeau) - - 80 

Two of a Kind (Rondeau) - - - 81 

To S. B. L. on her Wedding-day - 82 

Invitation to Dance - - - - 83 

viii 



The Lieutenant to his Love - - 86 

Sold ....... 88 

Sonnet 90 

Sonnet 91 

Looking Ahead 92 

A Revery 94 

Ballade of Leap-year ... 98 

Lines 100 

Appendix. 

I 104 

II 105 

III - - - 106 

IV 107 



IX 



SONNET. 
(trailing arbutus.) 

IT 7HEN hearts by love are willing captives led, 
Unhappy they while love is unconfessed. 
While thou unto my trembling lips art pressed 

I whisper words to mortals yet unsaid. 

Sweet flower, I pluck thee from thy mossy bed, 
And bid thee change thy home, to rest — 
Where bliss awaits thee — on her pearly breast. 

How sweet the hours in such a garden sped. 

This be my olive-branch, and thou my dove ; 

And when in that fair garden thou shalt bloom, 
Then softly whisper my undying love, 

And breathe away thy life in sweet perfume. 
But leave thy fragrance in her heart of gold, 
That thus my love forever may be told. 



AT THE BALL. 

T)ACK again 
*-* To the world ! 
And the pain 

That once hurled 
My heart's love 

From its throne 

Makes me shudder and moan 
That it still has such power to move. 

Friends of old 

With me here — 
That I hold 

Still so dear — 
I would spurn 

After all, 

Could I only recall 
The promise that made me return. 



And the smile 

I must wear 
All the whfle, 

When I bear 
Such a weight 

At my heart ! 

Must I finish the part 
That I play by the fiat of Fate ? 

Thus at strife 

With my heart 
Till my life 

And my part 
Are played out, — 

Must I be ? 

No! I'll fight till I see 
All the foes of my life put to rout. 



A FRAGMENT. 

"PADE, fade, sweet flower, fade fast away 
And fade, my memory of the day 

That gave thee to my sight. 
Dead is the hope that came with thee ; 
So may thy cruel fragrance flee 

And leave me to my night. 



A DREAM. 

[ DREAMT that in some fairy-land 
Where Cupid tends the bovvers, 

Where all for perfect love is planned 
And souls live in the flowers, — 

We dwelt together 'neath a sky 
That ne'er was dim or hazy. 

Thou wert a violet, and I 
A happy, happy daisy. 



HORACE, BOOK III. ODE IX. 

Horace. 
'TWILL thy fair bosom's snowy charms 

Could lie content in other arms, 
Sure of thy love, naught else J sought, 
And Persia's monarch envied not. 



Lydia. 
Till thou couldst from thy Lydia part, 
Ere hated Chloe touched thy heart, — 
How blest was I, so loved by thee 
That Ilia's fame was naught to me. 

Horace. 
Fair Chloe now my bosom sways 
With touch of lyre and sweetest lays. 
For her my life I'd freely give, 
Content to die that she might live. 



Lydia. 
Now youthful Calais loves me well. 
With mutual fire our bosoms swell. 
Twice would I gladly die to save 
My Thurian lover from the grave. 

Horace. 
What if the love that chained us then 
Should bind our willing hearts again ? 
If fair-haired Chloe now I spurn 
And ask my Lydia to return ? 

Lydia. 
Though Calais' brow be fairer far 
Than is the brightest morning star, — 
Thou rough and fickle as the sea, — 
Yet would I live — and die — with thee. 



FOR AN ALBUM. 

r WISH not all thy life may be 

A never-failing pure delight, 
But that each joy that comes to thee 

By trial may be made more bright. 
For ours would be a dreary lot 

If no tear e'er the cheek shone on ; 
Our liveliest joys would be forgot. 

And love would die if hate were gone. 
All joy that life can claim 
Be unto thee whose name 

Now hidden lies this page upon. 



THEN AND NOW. 

THEN. 

/^N this sweet spot two lovers sigh, 

And vow their love will never die. 
(If man had never loved on earth, 
I'd wager this were Cupid's birth.) 

NOW. 

On this sweet spot two lovers sighed. 
I wonder if their love has died ! 
(Each wedded another ere long. Ah, well! 
You can't most always sometimes tell.) 



TWO RONDEAUX. 
I. 

MY VASSAR GIRL. 

T)LOW, Summer breezes, gently blow 
The spirit of my heart's rondeau 
From Highland hills my love to greet, — 
The bloom upon her cheek to meet 

And kindle there an answering glow. 

Would I could on your fleet wings go, 
And with you flutter to and fro 

To see the blushes of my sweet, — 

My Vassar girl. 

Long as the Hudson's waves shall flow, 
The spirit of my love shall grow 

And follow her with flying feet. 

Com me elle est belle, ma chere petite. 
You too will think so when you know 

My Vassar girl. 



II. 

MY OWN CADET. 

dear ! we girls are all to go 

To West Point on the boat, you know. 
They told me so just down the street. 
And wont we have a jolly treat ! 

1 know my face is all aglow. 

And now my heart is beating so 
I don't know what to do; for Oh, 
What do you think? I am to meet 

My own Cadet. 

You know he sent that sweet rondeau 
That rhymes with blow, and grow, and flow. 

The old boat cannot go trop vite. 

(If he's sufficiently discreet 
Then I will pay him all I owe, — ) 

My own Cadet ! 



A SERENADE. 

OLEEP, my darling, slumber bring thee 

To the realms of Dream-land near ; 
But the song that now I sing thee 

May thy waking spirit hear, 
So that thou shalt dream I'm near thee, — 

That I guard thee in thy sleep. 
O may thy sweet spirit hear me 

While my watch of love I keep. 

Sleep, my darling, while around thee 

Soft and pale the moonbeams fall. 
Here the chain of love has bound me, 

And my soul to thine doth call. 
Dream, my love, that I am near thee, — 

That I kiss thee in thy sleep. 
O may thy sweet spirit hear me 

While my watch of love I keep. 



A VALENTINE. 

TAEAR lady, let me lift my eyes 

In deep humility to thine. 
As mortals hope to reach the skies, 

So let me hope to call thee mine. 
Thou art the perfect dream of love 

That lifts my soul from baser earth 
To rest on purer thoughts above 

And know thee at thy priceless worth. 

Fair as the dawn of summer morn 

And sweet as dying eve in May, 
And pure as breath of virgin borne 

To heaven while she kneels to pray; 
O matchless being ! from afar 

I worship at thy holy shrine. 
Sweet love shall be my guiding star 

If thou wilt be my Valentine. 

13 



A ROMANCE OF THE SLIDE. 

'pOGETHER they hied 
A To the top of the slide, 

To mount the wild toboggan ; 
For they had agreed, 
Whatever the steed, 

Together through life to jog on. 

Her blanket suit 
Went down the chute 

Like a streak of greased lightning, 
The while she felt 
Around her belt 

His arm securely tightening. 



Says she " What bliss 
To shoot like this 

Through life's steep chute together. 
So shoot the bummer 
Who sighs for Summer, 

But give us Wintry weather." 

Then they suddenly stop 
And spin like a top, 

Till you can't tell which from whether; 
And then they fall, 
Toboggan and all, 

In a helpless heap together. 



i5 



She crawls from the drift 
Without deigning to lift 

Her eyes to his crest-fallen features ; 
And he hears her say 
As she limps away, 
" I hate such careless creatures." 

x\nd since their slide 
They have not been tied, 

And together they never will jog on ; 

And their " it" suits 

All treacherous chutes 

Where sails the wild toboggan. 



16 



AT THE HOP. 

T MET her at the hop; 
And I felt a sudden stop 
In the calm and placid beating of my heart, 

For her face was so divine 

As she raised her eyes to mine 
That I straightway felt a thrust from Cupid's dart. 

I begged her for a dance, 

And I felt the little lance 
Sinking deep into my organ of affection, 

Which was beating very hard 

As I took the little card 
She so gracefully produced for my inspection. 



n 



And when my arm was placed 

Around her dainty waist, 
Then I felt that Cupid's dart was in to stay; 

And the agitation felt 

Near the region of my belt 
Was intenser when the music ceased to play. 

Then I offered her my arm, 

And a nameless vivid charm 
Seemed to claim me as we sauntered thro' the hall. 

But the pretty things I said 

Did not seem to turn her head, 
And she looked as if she heard them not at all. 



18 



Then I led her to the tank, 
And a cooling draught she drank ; 
And a " Cit " stood by and smiled at her so sweetly 
That I longed to punch his head, 
When she turned to me and said, 
"My husband." And I wilted then completely. 

And I wiped my crimson face 

With her fan of dainty lace, 
A circumstance that's quite beyond belief. 

But if you can believe, 

I poked it up my sleeve 
And fanned her with my pocket-handkerchief. 



i9 



SONNET. 

THE STATUE OF LIBERTY. 

f^\ THOU great Goddess at the nation's gate ! 

^ May thy strong arm, uplifted for the right, 

Pierce Earth's deep darkness with refulgent light, 

The only weapon that all tyrants hate. 

Guide safe to port old Ocean's precious freight. 
And as thy beams shall pierce the angry night, 
A welcome beacon to the sailor's sight, 

So may thy spirit guide our Ship of State. 

When waves of discord beat against her side, 

When stormy winds would drive her on the shore, 
And sunken rocks shall lie before her prow, 
Thy spirit teach her then the waves to ride 

And float in peace till stormy winds are o'er; 
And may her latest day be bright as now. 

20 



SONNET. 

A PORTRAIT. 

r pHERE hangs a picture on the darkened wall; 
A Uplifted eyes and trembling lips. A place 

For smiles and tears and kisses. I can trace 
Upon her lovely features signs of all. 
To the dim past it never fails to call 

My soul. In sunshine all the lines efface. 

In shadows how distinct they lie ! The face 
Grows bright when dim lights on the canvas fall. 

The artist is a sturdy youth, — with wings. 

The canvas broke, — it was so tightly stretched. 
'Tis more a work of nature than of art, 
And of the brush I still can feel the stings, 
Though ten long years ago 'twas sketched 
From life upon the canvas of my heart. 

21 



THE PROPOSAL. 

[ ASKED her. And what did she say? 

Why, Kate, don't you think you could guess? 
I have known for many a day 

That the answer would surely be yes. 

'Twas jolly! And what did I do? 

Well, that's a bold question, ma belle, 
But still I don't mind telling you, 

For we know one another so well. 

You see we had wandered away 

To this sweet little spot that I love; 

But were we on earth? I can't say, 
For I surely felt lifted above. 

22 



When she lifted her sweet eyes to mine, 
And murmured that dear little word 

In accents so sweet, so divine, 
Ah, was it a mortal I heard ? 

And then our loving lips met 

In one long, sweet, lingering kiss. 

Ye gods ! I can taste the sweets yet 
Of that double concentrated bliss. 

Why, your eyes are beginning to fill ! 

Forgive me, dear Kate, I confess ; 
I have not asked yet, but I will. 

Speak, darling, and answer me yes. 



STANZAS. 

HHELL me, gentle breeze, 

Whispering thro' the trees, 
If in some wild gladsome freak 
You have kissed my fair one's cheek. 

Never will you meet 

Other face so sweet. 

Have you ever heard 

Sweetest note of bird 
Half so sweet as that she sings 
When her dreamy carolings 

Murmur soft and low 

Like a brooklet's flow? 



24 



Watching her the while 

Have you seen her smile? 
All her soul is in her eyes 
As her long dark lashes rise 

When she smiles on me, — 

Smiles on happy me. 

Waft, then, gentle breeze, 

Whispering thro' the trees, 
One sweet kiss to her I love, — 
One sweet kiss that well may prove 

All my love for her, — 

Me her worshiper. 



25 



SONNET. 

J ARK! hear the bugle echo o'er the plain, 
To call us back within the old gray walls 
Where oft we tread the maze of Learning's halls. 
How sweetly sounds the old familiar strain. 
Minerva woos us now to thoughts of war; 
But one fair goddess do I hold above 
The patron of the arts and war. I love 
Minerva not the less, but you the more. 

The siege I laid to win your heart began 

With naught of strategy, or grand display, 

Or forces in reserve content to wait. 

Ah, no ! the only parallels I ran 

Were outstretched arms; and then, behold, straightway 

We both surrendered. Quick, good night! * * I'm late. 

26 



SONNET. 

A S when the humming-bird flits near a flower 
And flutters for an instant in the air, 
Thrilled with delight at all the sweetness there, 
And feels that sweetness all within its power, — 
Sips in anticipation o'er and o'er 

The honeyed depths of nature's lovely cells, 
Ere drawing from those golden nectar-wells 
Of delectation their abundant store, — 

So I, when hov'ring o'er a fairer flower 
Than ever bloomed in fairest earthly bower, 
Drink long, deep draughts of pure ethereal bliss, 
And then, entranced with one ecstatic kiss, 
I sip the nectar from her angel lips, 
And feel the sweetness to my finger tips. 

27 



THREE PICTURES. 

I. 

/^VNLY a bonny lad 

^ Clad in his coat of gray ; 

Only a sweet young maid, — 

Both at the same old play. 
Ah, the sweet things they said, 

And the hope that was born that day ! 

II. 

Only a battle fought 

Where the western sun glows red ; 
Only a soldier brave 

Lying among the de.ad ; 
And the portrait at his heart 

Is dyed in the blood that he shed. 

28 



III. 

Only a broken heart 

That vainly sighs for rest. 
Only a smothered sob 

That will not be represt. 
Afas for the sweet young maid 

And the hope that was born in her breast ! 



29 



A FANCY. 

r^VNCE on a time, in Fancy's fields, 

I wandered till my weary feet 
Found rest where fickle Fancy yields 

To man what makes his life most sweet. 

While on the flow'ry bank I slept 

And dreams of love my being thrilled, 

Fair Fancy there her vigil kept 

And all my sweetest dreams fulfilled. 

Wouldst thou," she said, " in Fancy's fields 
The fairest of our race behold? 

She reigns the Queen of Love, and wields 
O'er all our hearts her wand of gold." 

30 



And then, mid scenes of beauty rare, 
I saw thy radiant face, that yields — 

In all that makes love's dream most fair 
To naught in Fancy's fairest fields. 



3* 



SONNET. 

A DEDICATION. 

C* REAT names there are whose praise is sung by all. 

^ Let mine be not unsung by thee, whose name 
So often fills my thoughts, and then the fame 

So great that on more favored ones may fall — 

That grows with every hour — I envy not. 
And fairest reader mine, if thou canst see 
Thy name upon this page, — if here it be, — 

Canst thou then with that knowledge read my thought. 

For nestling here, as in my thoughts, there lies — 
From other eyes obscured — a name. If thine, 
It is to thee these idle thoughts of mine 

I freely dedicate. And may the ties 

That now unite us, friends as true as dear, 
Prove dearer with the flight of every year. 

32 



TO B. M. B. 

RONDEL. 

T FILL this cup to B. M. B. 

A And drink her health in Extra Dry, 

Though she is extra dry to me 

Whene'er to win her heart I try. 

Though she has caused me many a sigh. 

And will not be my own Marie, 

I fill this cup to B. M. B. 
And drink her health in Extra Dry. 

Perhaps she thinks I am too shy, 
And would consent if I should be 

A trifle bolder and more " fly." 
I'll take my hat and go to see. 
(I fill this cup to B. M. B. 

And drink her health in Extra Dry.) 

33 



FOR . 

1\ /TY heart and I have strolled away, 
And I have found the place 
To lay my head 
Among the dead 
When I have run my race ; 
And Oh that I could go to-day! 

The very earth seems so divine, 
'Tis such a lovely spot; 
E'en tho' no tear 
Should reach me here, 
I could not be forgot 
If such a resting place were mine. 



34 



Though but a name were graven there 
Above my weary head, 
Some kindred heart 
From which I part 
Might come with silent tread, 
And read a tale from the marble fair. 

And if my own true love will go 
My resting place to see, 
And linger near 
To shed a tear, 
How happy I shall be 
When the aneels come to tell me so. 



35 



UNDER A CLOUD. 

f\ RESTLESS sea! 

Thy waves, though free, 
Seem chafing 'neath the lowering mist; 

But when God's eye 

Shines from the sky, 
They laugh and play, by sunlight kissed. 

O restless heart ! 
Would I could part 
The cloud that dims thy lover sky, 
And, like the sea, 
Grow wild with glee 
Beneath the smile of one bright eye. 



HYMN. 

(air, silent night.) 

pOD of light, 
In Thy might, 

Guide our feeble steps aright. 
While we lift our eyes to Thee, 
Grant that we Thy light may see,— 

See Thy glorious light. 

Lord, to-day, 
While we pray, 

Help us cast the world away; 
Help us lift our thoughts above, 
Fill our souls with peace and love, 

Teach us how to pray. 

37 



MIDNIGHT, DEC. 31, 1875. 

'T^HE dear Old Year is dying, 

The Winter wind is sighing, 
A pure snow sheet is lying 

Upon the cold, cold ground ; 
I watch the dead leaves quiver, 
The ghostly old trees shiver, 
The moonbeams on the river, 

The mountains all snow-bound. 

The winds are sighing for thee, 
The trees are weeping o'er thee, 
The grand old hills adore thee, 

All love thee, dear Old Year. 
Time, like a mighty river, 
Flows on and ceases never. 
But thou art gone forever, 

And Nature drops a tear. 

38 



SONG. 

"IT 7HISPER once again, my darling, 

That such happiness is mine, — 
That I'm loved (though all unworthy) 

By a creature so divine ; 
No, let the silence be unbroken, 

Lest a whisper break the spell 
That holds us in this sweet Elysium, 

Where e'en the angels cannot dwell. 

Speak to me in love's sweet language, — 

By thy smiles and happy tears; 
And I'll answer thee with kisses, — 

Pledge of faith through coming years. 
But let the silence be unbroken, 

Lest a whisper break the spell 
That holds us in this sweet Elysium, 

Where e'en the angels cannot dwell. 

39 



THE ARROW AND THE SONG. 

f FIRED an arrow into the air. 
* It fell to earth, and I know where. 
A policeman found its pointed end 
Sticking fast in the heart of a friend. 

I fired a song at an editaire. 

It fell in the basket beside his chair. 

It is easy to follow the flight of a song 

When you know the fellow who sent it along. 

Because of the arrow this son of Mars 
Was fired behind the prison bars; 
And the world has lost a poet rare 
Because of the basket beside the chair. 



40 



AFTERMATH. 

(second marriages.) 

\\ THEN love'sSummer fields are mown, 
* * When death's shade has softer grown, 

And they tread life's shortened path ; 
Though the hair be tinged with snow, 
Or perhaps has ceased to grow, 
Again the fields of love they mow 

And gather in the aftermath. 

Not the flowers that first love bears 
Is this harvesting of their's; 

Not the perfect Summer bloom 
Of the grass in pleasant meads ; 
But a'gathering of weeds 
That have died and dropped their seeds 

In the shadow of the tomb. 

4i 



TO . 

r T > HE golden cord of friendship 
Has bound us heart to heart, 
And we have learned the lesson 

That friends too soon must part; 
And as our pathways differ, 

One boon I ask of thee: — 
That sometimes you'll remember 

The friend you have in me. 

The time we've spent together 

Seems like a Summer day, 
That sweetly dawns upon us 

But swiftly glides away; 
And when you spoke of parting, 

In accents soft and low, 
You seemed so like a sister 

I scarce could let you go. 

42 



But cruel Time will sever 

The strongest earthly ties, 
And life itself too often 

Seems but a "bridge of sighs." 
But one who loves the Summer 

Must bear with Winter snows; 
And though the thorns may pierce us, 

We'll eive thanks for the rose. 



43 



A COUSIN. 

f\F all the jolly things in life. 

Unless you chance to have a wife 
Your every grief and joy to share, — 
To scratch your eyes and pull your hair, 
How nice to have a cousin! 

A sister's fondness, brothers tell, 
For home consumption answers well. 
Of strangers you had best beware ; 
But then, 'tis quite une autre affaire 
If she is only cousin. 

How oft a tender, loving word 
Is softly breathed and gladly heard, 
And conscience quieted with this: — 
; What harm to steal one little kiss 
When she is only cousin ?" 

44 



If with a stranger you but walk, 
The gossips never cease to talk; 
But one may boldly stroll away, 
And " spooney" all the livelong day 
If she is only cousin. 

And if you sometimes wish to meet 
A girl that you would like to greet 
As friend, and keep the gossips still, 
(I wish you'd answer if you will,) 
What harm to call her cousin? 



45 



100 DAYS TO JUNE. 

\ DAY is coming, sweetheart mine, 
Preceded by but ninety-nine, 
When sweet perfume 
Will meet us on the balmy air, 
And we will bid good-by to care 
When roses bloom. 

How long the days, O sweetheart mine, 
(Preceded by but ninety-nine) 

Till we resume 
The sweet communion that we knew. 
I wonder if you'll still be true 

When roses bloom. 

46 



Then will I don the Army Blue 
And hasten, love, to be with you, 

Unless my doom 
The Academic Board pronounce 
And give "yours truly" the "grand bounce 

When roses bloom. 

And if I fail to graduate 

Some other " file" you'll captivate. 

And I'll make room 
For one who'll suit as well as I, 
And you'll forget me by and by 

When roses bloom. 



47 



Well, love is but a fitful flame, 
And two can play at that old game ; 

And I presume 
It's very well that one can flirt 
And change a lover like a shirt, 

So let them bloom. 



48 



OSCULATION. 

No. I. 
(in the section-room.) 

"TV TR. BLANK, the subject of your demonstration 
Is that of plane curves, as regards osculation." 
Then I turned to the board with increased respiration, 
And the laudable instinct of self-preservation 
Induced me to foster a determination 
To "bugle it" on him; but ah, what vexation! 
For after the usual bugling duration 
He rudely checked my unseemly elation 
By shouting in accents to startle creation, 

"Go on, Mr. Blank, with your recitation." 

And I " fessed " like the place where there's no 

congelation ; 

49 



Like the place that's considered the ultimate station 
Of the " files" who have severed this earthly relation 
And have moved their effects to their last habitation 
Without having given due consideration 
To the matters essential to human salvation. 
Then I stopped with a sigh and a sad resignation, 
And muttered some words about "time, — preparation;' 
But he stopped my ingenuous explication 
By remarking with cutting deliberation, 
"Time enough, Mr. Blank, for that enunciation. 
You have wasted your time in the vain expectation 
That the bugle would spare you the just expiation 
Of the sin of neglecting your true occupation. 
If you wish to avoid the extermination 
Which threatens you now, this excoriation 



Must induce you to cause the exfoliation 

Of your sinful habit of procrastination. 

You may take these remarks as a mild intimation 

That the limited time of your present probation 

Will probably reach an abrupt termination 

At the end of the coming examination. 

Your mark for to-day is the representation 

Of an osculatrix — with a slight elongation." 

No. II. 
(on furlough.) 
It happened in this way: A gentle flirtation 
Was turning my thoughts to the incatenation 
Of two hearts that beat in synchronal vibration. 
It is true that my very intense supplication 

5i 



Had not met with a hearty and prompt acceptation; 
But still I was spared an emphatic negation, 
And the general tone of the whole situation 
Gave food for a great deal of deep contemplation. 
I was making a frequent profound lucubration 
Of my object of tenderest solicitation, 
And one evening repeated, with much animation, 
The above brief account of my humiliation 
In connection with curves. When my little oration 
Was finished she said (while the bright scintillation 
Of her beautiful eyes made a swift penetration 
To the depths of my heart), " What is osculation? " 
'Well," I said, " to set forth its full signification 
Would require a tedious, long explanation. 
I can better explain by a slight illustration ; 



5 2 



But if it should meet with your disapprobation, 
You need not display any great trepidation ; 
Just pretend I'm afflicted with noctambulation." 

And the kisses I took, in their sweet cumulation, 
Would pay me, I'm sure, at the least calculation, 
For ten thousand marks like the representation 
Of an osculatrix with a slight elongation. 



53 



A SONCx OF SPRING. 

VTOW the Spring is drawing nigh, 
And the cloudlets in the sky 
Skip along 
With an air that seems to say, 
"Treat your comrades of the gray 
To a song." 

For the hundredth night to June 
Comes upon us very soon, 

And the boys 
Tune their riddles and their throats, 
Pouring forth in lively notes 

All their joys. 



54 



Soon the busy bee will hum. 
Soon the merry Plebe will come, 

And perchance 
He will realize his dreams 
With his fingers on the seams 

Of his pants. 

And the " Yearling " then will smile, 
And his leisure time beguile 

With the same ; 
And his eyes with glee will pop 
When he sees the " Mr." drop 

From his name. 



55 



By and by he'll drill a squad, 
And he'll tread the verdant sod 

With a charm 
That proclaims his chief objective 
Is the golden stripe prospective 

On his arm. 

Soon the furlough-man will try 
To explain the reason why 

Chauvenet 
Sould harass him with his squares, 
And he diligently swears 

Every day. 



56 



And he hums a furlough tune, 
For he's thinking now of June 

All the while. 
Then after taps where will he be? 
And will he sleep through reveille? 

I should smile! 

Now the second-classman bones 
Organ-pipes and overtones, 

And By Jing! 
He can discount Buttercup 
By the way he mixes up 

Everything. 



57 



Molecules and microscopes, 
Mollie Smith and all his hopes, 

Fill his brain ; 
But when Mollie Smith is near 
Molecules all disappear 

Like the rain. 

Now he seeks the wave to trace, 
And he thinks he has the case 

Very clear ; 
But when trying to recite 
All his little rays of light 

Interfere. 



He sees the radiant chase the focus, 
Sees them meet by hocus-pocus 

At the lens ; 
And he knows not, I suspect, 
If he's inverted or ei'eet 

When it ends. 

From the "Gym" on Saturday 
Now his melancholy way 

Back he wends; 
For his mark is the projection 
Of a double-convex section 

Of the lens. 



59 



But the man supremely blest 
Is the one who pulls his vest 

Gently down 
And imagines he's a " Cit," 
With the latest style and fit, 

From the town. 

For he thinks he'll shed the gray 
With but very slight delay, 

And depart 
With his tall hat and his cane, 
And but very little pain 

In his heart. 



60 



But we'll try and not forget 
That he's probably in debt 

For his clo'es; 
And he'll likely liquidate 
By eighteen-ninety-eight 

What he owes. 

Now a word, before we go, 
Of the one to whom we owe 

All that's sweet. 
How she studies every day 
To beguile the boys in gray 

At her feet ! 



61 



See the smile she soon employs 
For her choice of all the boys 

As they part, 
And an image you detect, 
Real, larger and erect, 

In his heart. 

Soon the festive maid will wait 
For her lover at the gate 

Till he come ; 
Then the maiden and Cadet 
Will rehearse the sweet duet 

Called "Yum-yum." 



62 



And the button will depart 
From the region of his heart, 

And insist 
That its business is to dangle 
From a lovely little bangle 

At her wrist. 

And a golden sword you'll note, 
In the laces at her throat 

Neatly placed ; 
And their monograms entwined 
On a breast-plate you will find 

At her waist. 



6.3 



By and by the maid will smile 
Sweetly on some other " file," — 

Then a fuss!! 
And he'll meet and pass her by, 
While she sadly wonders why 

This is thus. 

Then she'll tell a bitter tale, 
Shed a tear, and sadly rail 

At her fate ; 
But, in spite of any wrangle, 
She will hold fast to the bangle 

And the plate. 



64 



Thus the quick returning Spring 
Unto each his fate will bring, 

Far and wide. 
In the meantime I have finished ; 
And until my brain's replenished 

I'll subside. 



65 



O FADED ROSE. 

RONDEAU. 

/^\ FADED rose in my lapel, 

What secret may your fragrance tell? 
The dainty hand that placed you there, — 
The hand in all the world most fair, — 

Has cast on me its mystic spell. 

In sweetest fragrance you excel, 
And she in every grace, as well. 

Tell me the message that you bear, 

O faded rose. 

And will you not my doubts dispel? 
Her fingers trembled and you fell 

When she had plucked you from her hair. 

I caught you then ; and now I swear 

Your secret safe with me will dwell, 

O faded rose. 
66 



YE CRITIC WISE. 

RONDEAU. 

UE critic wise (built on a plan 
** So far above the common man) 
Who reads my very humble verse 
(I know it could not well be worse) 

To find a line that will not scan, — 

Go to ! I claim not that I can 
Stand with the poets in the van 

Of modern thought. Avaunt, disperse, 

Ye critic wise ! 

When this rondeau my pen began 
I knew the rhymes that end in an 

\yould surely play the act perverse ; 
But still my plan I'll not reverse 
For I must hold you under ban, 

Ye critic wise. 
67 



A VALENTINE. 

r\ COME and dwell beneath my vine, 
^ And these devoted arms of mine 
Will round no other gal entwine 
If thou wilt be my Valentine. 
By day my soul for thee doth pine. 
By night in dreams I cast a line 
For thee, — a mermaid in the brine. 
Till thou and all thy love be mine 
For me the sun in vain will shine. 
And oh, shouldst thou my suit decline, 
How could I all my hopes resign, 
And, bending this devoted spine, 
Submit to cruel Fate's design? 
Oh, rather wilt thou not consign 



68 



To me that gentle heart of thine? 
Thy every wish I'll quick divine, 
Thy most obedient" always sign, 
And to thy slightest will incline. 
Then come and dwell beneath my vine, 
And these devoted arms of mine 
Will round no other gal entwine 
While thou art still my Valentine. 



69 



SONNET. 

\ LL silent ! Not a breath of air to stir 
A single leaf that droops above her head 
As if in mourning for the lovely dead. 
All silent ! yet there comes a voice from her, 
A voice I hear not ; but I feel its touch, 
As, spirit like, it plays upon my heart. 
With sad, sweet pain its o'erstrung fibers start 
And vibrate. Ah, 'twas loving her too much ! 

A thousand worlds were far too poor to buy 
The memory of even one sweet word 
That her poor lips have uttered. And I know 
That when she leaves her bright home in the sky 
And comes to watch where love's sweet tones she 

heard, 
While I am true she will not haste to go. 

70 



SONNET. 

On receiving a package of court-plaster with the inscription 
" I heal all wounds save those of love." 

IF ever shadows fall upon thy brow 
To make the world seem dark to thee and drear — 
If e'er a wound should come to cause a tear, 
Or e'en to make thy life less bright than now, 
Then mayst thou also find a balm to heal 

All wounds save those of love. And if in all 
Thy burdens one there be that seems to call 
For strength more than thine own, then mayst thou feel 
That thou canst call on one who fain would share 
Thy burdens but to make them light for thee,— 
On one whose love is thus to thee assured. 
But mayst thou never— never have to bear 
A single wound of love that might not be 
By application of <wr/-plaster cured. 



7' 



THE CLASS OF '75, U. S. M. A. 

pOME fill your glasses to the brim, 
^ Pour in the blood-red wine. 
In every drop, my noble lads, 

A thousand rubies shine. 
We'll pledge our love to old West Point, — 

May all her inmates thrive ; 
But first of all we'll toast to-night 

The Class of Seventy-five. 

Then lift your glasses high, my boys,— 
All ready, — let her drive ! 

And long as life and wine shall last 
We'll drink to Seventy-five. 



72 



Our Alma Mater soon we'll leave 

To don the Army Blue ; 
And may we still be worthy sons, 

And to our country true. 
So let us gay and happy be 

And show we're all alive ; 
We'll laugh and sing, make glasses ring, 

And drink to Seventy-five. 

Then lift your glasses high, my boys, 
All ready, — let her drive! 

For long as life and wine shall last 
We'll drink to Seventy-five. 



73 



Another bumper, — come and fill : 
" Our Sweethearts," one and all. 
And may we never leave them more, 

Save at our country's call; 
And still we'll breathe their holy names 

Through many a bumper's foam. 
Their prayers shall nerve our arms to fight 

For country and for home. 

Then lift your glasses high, my boys, — 
All ready, — let her drive ! 

And may the hearts we toast to-night 
Be true to Seventy-five. 



74 



One more, my lads; and still 'tis love, 

A holy, sacred flame. 
" Our Mothers." Pledge our all to them. 

God bless the sainted name! 
Through life and death, whate'er betide, 

We'll for their honor strive ; 
And may they ne'er have cause to be 

Ashamed of Seventy-five. 

Then lift your glasses high, my boys, 
All ready,— let her drive ! 

And may our cup be filled with joy, 
And God bless Seventy-five. 



75 



"SAY NOTHING." 

'T^HREE lovely young maidens I met on my way. 

(Say nothing, say nothing, say nothing.) 
I bowed so politely that each one did say, 

"Say nothing, say nothing, say nothing." 
Then I said to the first one, "O hear me, I pray, 
For long have I loved you and waited this day 
My passion to tell, " but she stopped me to say, 

"Say nothing, say nothing, say nothing." 

To the next one I bowed in my own modest way, 
(Say nothing, say nothing, say nothing.) 

And I said, " If you love me not dearly, I pray, 
Say nothing, say nothing, say nothing." 

Then she laughed in a very embarrassing way 

And hastened in silvery accents to say, 
' Our hands and our hearts shall not meet some day, 
Say nothing, say nothing, say nothing." 

76 



" O dreamy young maid," to the last one I said, 

(Say nothing, say nothing, say nothing.) 
" If fondly you love me and wish to be wed, 
Say nothing, say nothing, say nothing." 
Then nothing she said, and I've long rued the day 
For her tongue has been going it every which way, 
And I wearily wait for the day when she may 
Say nothing, say nothing, say nothing. 



77 



AFTER THE HOP. 

two triolets. 

She. 
[T E dances like a stick, 

And yet I cannot cut him, — 
His pocket-book's so thick. 
He dances like a stick ! 
I wish he would be quick ! 

I must dance until I've got him! 
He dances like a stick, 

And yet I cannot cut him. 



78 



He. 

Her name is on my list 

For nearly half the dances. 

She surely would be missed ! 

Her name is on my list, 

And she always will persist 
In taking all the chances. 

Her name is on my list 

For nearly half the dances. 



79 



TO MY CIGARETTE. 

RONDEAU. 

r\ CIGARETTE! O clouds that rise ' 
In fragrant billows to the skies, 
And waft my castles in the air 
On snowy hills to vanish there, 

In your soft folds my spirit lies. 

And gazing there, to my surprise, 
I always see the same blue eyes. 

No other eyes with them compare, 

O Cigarette. 

I wonder if we might devise 

A plan to bind, with stronger ties 

Than smoke, my heart to blue eyes fair. 

I'll try my luck to-night, I swear! 
He never wins who never tries, 

O Cigarette. 

80 



TWO OF A KIND. 

RONDEAU. 

TTER gauzy web, suspended high 

To catch the careless passer by, 

By cunning hands is deftly set. 

Too late the fluttering victims fret 
When they are captured on the sly. 

For Madam Spider keeps her eye 
Peeled for the gay and frisky fly, 

And scoops him tangled in her net, — 

Her gauzy web. 

Full soon will they entangled lie, 
When human victims flutter nigh 

The gauzy web of the coquette. 

Too late they struggle and regret, 

With many a melancholy sigh, 

Her gauzy web. 
81 



TO S. B. L. ON HER WEDDING-DAY. 

TAEAR heart of thine, no word of mine 
^ Can make more sweet the bliss 
That comes to light thy life to-night 

With thy first bridal kiss ; 
Yet must the wise the young advise, 

And so I send you this. 

Remember, — (i) To keep the sun 

Of love alway at noon. 
And also, — (2) Keep ever new 

And bright the honey-moon. 
And then for (3) you'll always be 

Your husband's only "spoon." 



82 



INVITATION TO DANCE. 

For Music by Jiingst. 

TJEAR the sweet melody 

Joyfully ringing. 
Softly it comes to thee, 

Tenderly bringing 
Echoes from Fairy-land, 

Fond hearts entrancing. 
Why wilt thou idle stand? 

Light feet are dancing. 

Come, then, my love most fair, 
We'll dance with flying feet; 
And with the music sweet 

Our souls shall mingle there. 

Come, dance with me. 

83 



Then when the melody — 

Joyfully ringing — 
Softly shall come to thee 

It will be bringing 
Love's tender memories, 

Our hearts entrancing. 
Fast fly the golden days 

While Love is dancing. 

Come, then, my love most fair, 
We'll dance with flying feet; 
And with the music sweet 

Our souls shall mingle there. 

Come, dance with me. 



84 



And then when May is past 

And bleak December 
Chills with its stormy blast, 

Oft we'll remember — 
Treading life's Wintry ways, 

Love still entrancing — 
All those bright golden days 

When Love was dancing. 

Come, then, my love most fair, 
We'll dance with flying feet; 
And with the music sweet 

Our souls shall mingle there. 

Come, dance with me. 



8^ 



THE LIEUTENANT TO HIS LOVE. 

\\ 7ERE I the lord of some fair isle 
Girt by rich seas for many a mile, 

With golden streets between, — 
Where towering castles far more great 
Than stand on any king's estate 

Rise from their beds of green, — 

If all that makes this life most fair 
At my command were gathered there 

To grace the wondrous scene, 
I'd lay my treasures at thy feet 
And on my bended knees entreat 

That thou wouldst be my queen. 



86 



No island lies at my command, 
I dwell not in a castle grand, 

Few are my goods, I ween. 
O'er two small rooms I hold my sway, 
And Blivens lives across the way, 

With one bare hall between. 

And all the worldly goods I own 
But serve to deck a vacant throne, 

And dreary is the scene. 
But I'll hypothecate my pay, 
And Bliv will vacate o'er the way 

If thou wilt be my queen. 



SOLI). 

IV /TY love is successfully sold, 

But its price is not found in my pocket. 
Myrtilla will handle the gold, 

And my hopes have gone up like a rocket. 
She has made an enormous per cent 

On the small amount that it cost her. 
The love that she gave me was lent ; 

She has taken it back, and I've lost her. 

Her husband is rolling in wealth, 

But he's now in the sere and the yellow. 
He takes a mild nip " for his health," 

And often it makes him quite mellow. 
If she wishes for nothing but gold 

Her fortune but little has cost her. 
My love has been heartlessly sold ; 

She pockets the price, and I've lost her. 

88 



My memory lingers to-night^ 

On the scene when she gave me her letters; 
And I thought that a tear dimmed her sight 

When my love she exchanged for gold fetters. 
Ah, well! let her handle the gold. 

After all, who can tell what it cost her? 
I but know I was terribly sold, — 

That a richer man bid and I lost her. 

I danced with Myrtilla to-night. 

I could not for my life give the reason, 
But I thought that her foot was less light 

And her manner less bright than last season. 
And her sighs were intended to show 

What her bargain with Mammon had cost her, 
What a struggle my love to forego. 

Then I felt less regret that I'd lost her. 

8 9 



SONNET. 

r T A HE light-house, standing by the harbor bar 
To guide the stately ship that ploughs the sea 
And bring it safe to anchor in the lee 

Of rocky shores when sailing from afar, 

Lures unto death the bird on weary wing 

That flies despite its will to reach the glare 
Of dazzling light that draws it to the snare 

From which it falls, — a bruised and shattered thing. 

So thou, the guiding star that leads me on, 
Must soon behold me lying at thy feet 

Enraptured 'neath the light of thy sweet smile, 
Or broken by the fall and hope all gone. 
O tell my waiting soul that it shall meet 

Safe anchorage in the liorht of thy sweet smile. 



90 



SONNET. 

T^vEAR friend, for such I trust, (yea, know) thou art, 
For naught but goodness, purity and love 

Can dwell where smiles like thine, — like smiles 
above, — 
Light up the bright, fair face, and show the heart 
Pure as the face is beautiful; to all 

A friend; and if to all, a friend to me. 

A friend so gentle, loving, kind and free 
From sin, it seems thou hast escaped the fall, 
And angels seem with flowers to bind thy brow. 
A bright cloud hovers o'er thy young life now, 
A cloud of promise, hope, and love, and joy, 
And full of happiness without alloy. 
On thee, and him who calls thee more than friend, 
O never may a darker cloud descend. 



LOOKING AHEAD. 

T AM roaming here on a western hill, 

But my heart is back on the Hudson still; 
For all day long, thro' joy or pain, 
I dream of my Highland home again, 
And old Flirtation's cool retreat 
Woos me again to a rustic seat 
Where oft I sat in the days that are gone, — 
In the days of early manhood's dawn. 
My cheek is fanned by the gentle breeze 
That wafts sweet perfume through the trees, 
And I list to the wavelets' murmuring song, 
Kissing the rocks as they pass along. 
The sunshine through the trembling leaves 
A golden web on the gravel weaves, 
And I trace my fate in the lines that are made, 
Oft in the bright ones, oft in the shade, 



Crossing each other thro' months and years, 
All life checkered with smiles and tears; 
And there I muse till the bugle strain 
Calls me back to the world again. 
And oft as memory bids me gaze 
Back through the avenue of days 
To the time when Alma Mater's care 
Taught me how to do and dare, 
My heart replies as time rolls on, 
" The happiest days are the days that are gone. 

The Howitzer, Feb. 2j, 1877. 



93 



A REVERY. 

T IGHTLY the shades of evening fall, 
And Night's soft pinions over all 

In slumber lie. 
Night's gentle queen in calm delight 
Looks down through clouds of snowy white 

As past they fly. 

In yon blue field a silver star 
Looks down upon us from afar 

With smiling face, 
And twinkles with a radiant light 
All through the stilly Summer night 

Ear up in space. 



94 



A melancholy stillness reigns, 

And Nature's song in sweetest strains 

The ear receives, 
Sung where a brooklet glides away, 
Or where the breezes gently play 

Among the leaves. 

Night, when thy sweet moments come, 
When life has lost its busy hum 

And day has fled, 

1 love to leave the halls of mirth 
And wander o'er the pleasant earth 

With silent tread. 



95 



I love beneath the star-gemmed sky 
To spend in pleasant revery 

The midnight hour, 
When memory brings her busy train 
Of past events to view again 

With magic power. 

The joys and sorrows, hopes and fears, 
That swayed my soul through weary years 

Forever flown, 
Borne back on memory's golden wing, — 
Returning like the birds of Spring, — 

Are still my own. 



96 



Again I see the silent tear, 
Again with aching heart I hear 

The parting sigh, 
And friendly forms I see once more 
As I have seen them o'er and o'er 

In times gone by. 

Yes, wand'ring 'neath the moon's soft rays, 
I often think of by-gone days, 

Remembered long; 
And often friendship's fond embrace 
And words of kindness seek a place 

In memory's throng. 

April, 1872. 



97 



BALLADE OF LEAP-YEAR. 

(before.) 

"IT THEN Leap-year skies are soft and blue 

And lovers for their mates shall pine, — 
When pretty maidens come to woo 
This tender, waiting heart of mine 
And each would be a willing vine 

To cling to my commanding height, — 
How shall I learn to draw the line? 

How shall I choose my life's delight? 

When fair blue eyes of tender hue 

Turn to my own with love's design, 
I feel that there is naught to do 

But meekly yield and quick resign 
My tender heart, to keep the brine 

From clouding eyes so fair and bright. 
To whom shall I my heart consign? 

How shall I choose my life's delight? 

98 



And then when black eyes come to sue 

My waiting heart for love's sweet sign, 
How can I turn from eyes so true 

And their soft glance of love decline? 
My tender heart would oft repine 

If I should seem their love to slight. 
When blue and black are both divine 
How shall I choose my life's delight? 

l'envoy. 
(after.) 

Where are those eyes so soft and fine? 

Not one has come to glad my sight, 
And Leap-year's sun has ceased to shine. 

How shall I choose my life's delight? 



99 



LINES. 

F)V the side of a murmuring streamlet, 

Where the fresh Summer winds softly blow. 
Where the breeze gently plays with the leaflets 

And the green leaves and wild flowers grow, — 
By that stream I have silently wandered, 

With a heart that was weary and sad, 
And I've listened, — half dreaming, half waking, — 

To the strains of its music so glad. 

To the flowers it seems to be singing, 

On its green mossy banks growing wild, 
And the willows droop lovingly o'er it, 

Like a mother caressing her child; 
And the birds their soft chorus are chirping, 

As its waters exultingly flow, 
And the thanks they receive is the music 

That is played on the pebbles below. 

TOO 



I have thought as I gazed on its waters 

Flowing onward so joyful and free, 
That I'm sailing on Time's stormy river 

As it flows to Eternity's sea; 
That I'm journeying on to the ocean 

Where the loved who have left us now sleep, 
And I've wondered who'll mourn and who'll miss me 

When I'm launched far away on the deep. 

When death's shadows are over me stealing, 

Oh, what hearts will be sorrowful then? 
When from all earthly scenes I have parted, 

Who will sigh for my presence again? 
Who will sit by the mound where I'm sleeping, 

Who will miss me thro' long, weary years, 
Who will strew the bright flowers above me, 

Who will pay me a tribute of tears? 



And I've thought that if no weary mortal 

Will lament when my spirit has fled, — 
That if no kindred spirit will miss me 

When I'm gone to the place of the dead,— 
Then the birds a sweet chorus will warble 

O'er the grave where no mortal will weep, 
And the breezes will join in the singing, 

And together they'll hush me to sleep. 
April, 1872. 



peeeftDix 



I. 

(see page^.) 

f\ READER, spare thy pitying eye, 
^ Nor heave a sympathetic sigh 

To think my heart was broken. 
My life was never aught but gay ; 
That little button-hole-bouquet 

Was but a friendly token. 



104 







II. 

(see page 36.) 

NCE on a time 
That little rhyme 
Fell from my pen in idle mood ; 
But far away 
Was the sea that day, 
And a one-eyed girl I never wooed. 



105 



III. 

(see page 80.) 

A TO cigarette makes clouds that rise 
In fragrant billows to the skies 
To waft his castles in the air 
On snowy hills to banish care. 

For in its smoke ye rhymester lies. 

The " fragrant weed " he doth despise, 
And in his wildest moments tries 

(Though oft to do great things he dare) 

No cigarette. 

But to prevent one's great surprise 
When one a book of verses buys 
And finds no smoky verses there, 
Ye rhymester did those lines prepare; 
But he will smoke until he dies 

No cigarette. 
iq6 



IV. 

QO ends y e booke y e rhymester mayde, — 
Or goode, or bad, — too late to mende y t . 

And so y e rhymester, undysmayed, 

Out in y e cold, bleake worlde must sende y*. 

Yf ye who reade should sadly say, 

"Let Fate no more such tasks assign us," 
Att least ye weary mortals may 
Bee very grateful for y e 



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